


Stars May Collide

by PepperPaprikashPecanPie



Category: Figure Skating RPF, Olympics RPF
Genre: AU, Angst, F/M, SO completely AU, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-21 16:53:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14919245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperPaprikashPecanPie/pseuds/PepperPaprikashPecanPie
Summary: Scott Moir appears to have it all.  He is one of the most successful coaches and choreographers in Canadian history.  He has money, notoriety, women.  Only Tessa Virtue, his newly hired assistant, knows how empty he truly feels.





	1. one.

Blades carved against the ice, their deep growl echoing through the otherwise silent rink. He gave himself over to the feeling, his limbs stretching as his body glided across the smooth surface. He hadn’t done this in a while. It seemed like it had been ages since he’d skated without purpose, simply allowing his body to move the way it wanted to- in a way that happened more naturally for him than breathing. This was what he loved about the sport, the weightlessness in his body as it moved, the flying feeling, the way the air pushed his hair across his face. He loved the bite of the cold against his cheeks and the sting of the crisp air in his lungs.

Tomorrow Marie and Patch would arrive to find grooves cut into the surface of the ice that should have been left smooth from the final run of the zamboni at 10 pm, but they would ignore it, just as they had always done.

As he made his way off the ice, he wiped the icy spray off of his blades, untied his boots, and settled them into the bottom of his gym bag. He slung the bag over his shoulder and headed towards the exit. He turned back one last time to survey the emptiness before flicking off the row of light switches one by one.

_Darkness._

* * *

5:30 a.m. Tessa’s alarm blared against the silence of the morning. She sat up and looked out the window. The sky was still the deep navy of night time, but it had begun to lighten ever so slightly at the horizon that stretched across the river in front of their house. She brought a hand down swiftly on the snooze button, praying that the aggressive noise hadn’t awakened the others in the house. She stretched her arms above her head, willing her muscles to wake up enough to carry her out of bed. She stumbled to the kitchen and flipped the switch next to the sink to turn on the dim light over the stove. Mornings were not her strong suit. She was definitely more of a night owl, but it was her first day on the job and Montreal was quite the hike, even on the best of days with no traffic.

She had worked for years as a secretary at a law firm in London until Mr. Fitzpatrick had decided to retire. Two weeks had passed since he had given her a sizable severance check and a stellar letter of recommendation that had used words like _motivated, hard worker, personable, kind_ and _trustworthy._ But at the end of the day, she was still unemployed and it had taken her a week and a half of job searching before she had driven herself to the unemployment agency to join the ranks of hard working people that had also only been able to manage half a university degree.

“Tessa Virtue?” A middle-aged woman with mousy brown hair had called her name from a small office just off the main waiting area. A smile had crossed her face when Tessa had stood up and walked in her direction. Tessa had immediately stood out. While others showed up to their appointments at the agency wearing threadbare jeans and a t-shirt that appeared as though it hadn’t been washed in two weeks, Tessa had shown up in a crisp white suit, clutching a portfolio.

“Susan Perkins.” The woman had extended a hand to Tessa with a kind, understanding smile.

“Tessa Virtue.” Tessa had responded, reaching out to shake the woman’s hand.

Susan’s office was immaculate, albeit a little quirky. A calendar with a kitten batting around a ball of yarn was tacked to the bulletin board above her workspace along with several motivational posters, including one that read, “YOU CAN DO IT!” emblazoned in bright colored letters. Tessa imagined in another life that Susan Perkins would have been a kindergarten teacher. Her cheery demeanor and understanding eyes would certainly not be out of place.

“Let’s see, Miss Virtue.” The woman sighed as she eased herself down into the office chair behind her desk.

“Please, just Tessa.” She responded as she opened the portfolio in front of her and produced a paperclipped packet containing a cover letter, resume, and letters of recommendation. “Ms. Perkins,” Tessa began.

“Oh, just call me Susan, dearie.”

Susan’s pink fingernails clicked against the keys on her computer and her eyes were fixed on the screen.

“Susan, I’m a hard worker.” Tessa implored, silently willing the woman to understand how serious she was. 

“Honey, I know you’re a hard worker. You’re competent, dedicated, and loyal. Your former employer,” she glanced down at a paper in Tessa’s file, “A Mr. Fitzpatrick from the firm of Fitzpatrick, Stanley, and Associates called me personally to ensure that I understood how valuable you were.”

“Well that was certainly thoughtful of him.” Tessa made a mental note to call Mr. Fitzpatrick and thank him.

“Honey, you’ve had the same job for the past six years. You’ve got marketable skills and you’d be an asset to any workplace.” Susan’s nails continued to click against the keys. “The problem is that I just don’t have any openings right now.”

Tessa’s heart sank. _That’s it._ “You’re at the top of my list, sweetheart.” She continued, eyes warm and sympathetic. “You’d make the agency look good anywhere we’d put you!”

A chime sounded from Susan’s computer just as she’d started to tell Tessa that she’d be in touch, but she hesitated for a moment to read whatever notification had appeared on her screen.

“Hold on.” Susan’s eyes scanned the monitor and a slight smile crossed her lips. She glanced over to Tessa with a look of appraisal. “I may just have an option. I’m not sure you’ll like it, though.”

“Susan, I’ll do just about anything at this point.” Tessa practically begged.

“The job is for a personal assistant. And it’s temporary.” Susan started. Her eyes glanced back to the screen, a concerned look on her face. “However, we have sent him five candidates within the past month. None of them have lasted longer than three days. They say that he is explosive, temperamental, and disrespectful. There are two weeks left in the contract that he has with us, so the position will only be short term, unless you decide to make arrangements privately afterwards. He is only tied to the agency for another two weeks.”

“I’ll do it.” The words had left her mouth before her brain had the sense to process them. Right then her pro-con list had made very little difference. She needed the job.

“It’s in Montreal.” Susan countered. “It will be at least an hour and a half each way with all of the rush hour traffic.”

Tessa considered Susan’s statement. It would be long days. Many hours spent away from home. As much as she wished she could consider her options, she knew that she wasn’t in a position to turn it down.

“I’ll make it work.” She had told Susan. “I need the job.”

“Very well, then.” Susan had responded with a sympathetic smile. “I’ll let him know that you’ll start on Monday.”

Tessa had spent the entire weekend mulling her decision over. She knew that it had been the right decision- taking this job, and as the coffee dripped from the Keurig into her mug, she felt the calm settle over her. It was a brand new day. A brand new opportunity.

She was a firm believer that you had to dress the way that you wanted people to perceive you. She pulled on a pair of dark, fitted dress pants and a cream colored silk camisole. She shrugged her arms into a black military-style blazer and took a deep breath. Whatever this day had to offer, she could handle.

She knew very little about where she would be working. She’d been given a place and an accompanying address- Gadbois. Her google search told her that Gadbois was an ice rink- a hub and destination for figure skaters training at an elite level. She doubted that she’d get too hot in an ice rink, so a blazer it was. She swept her dark tresses into a low ponytail and washed her face. She opted for minimal makeup- some blush, a swipe of mascara, and a touch of brown eyeliner to make her green eyes pop.

She drained the last of her coffee and placed her cup in the dishwasher. She threw a protein bar and a banana into her black satchel and placed the bag by the door. Tessa tiptoed up the stairs, carefully avoiding the step that creaked. The door to the second room on the left was cracked slightly open. She pushed the door gently until it was wide enough for her to fit through. The sun was up enough that she could make out vague outlines of the objects in the room. She made her way across the small bedroom, side stepping the toys and books that lay abandoned on the floor. She reached the side of the twin bed and found the dark outline of hair against the pillow. Tessa reached down and stroked her fingers through the silky chestnut colored strands. She bent down and pressed a kiss against the crown of the little girl’s head, breathing in deeply the scent of her lavender shampoo. _It’s all for you._

“Love you forever, Lola bean.” Tessa whispered to the tiny figure, curled beneath the blanket.

“Love you always, Mama.” The small, sleepy voice answered back.

A tear wandered its way down Tessa’s cheek. She swiped it away with the back of her hand as she made her way to Lola’s bedroom door. In the doorway, she paused and took a deep breath, a renewed sense of purpose coursing through her veins. _It’s all for you._ Tessa grabbed her bag and headed out the front door, locking it behind her.

A brand new day.

* * *

“Again!” He yelled, relishing the way his voice bounced to and fro in the vastness of the arena. “Do it again.”

He skated his way to the boards to pick up the black coffee tumbler he had left there. He drained the remainder of the bitter liquid. He pressed play on his computer and the music filled the arena once more.

The young teenage skater began the footwork sequence again, desperately attempting to place his blade correctly on the ice, hold each and every edge, keep it as clean as possible. He made it halfway through the footwork section before he faltered, second guessing himself. He missed a critical point in the footwork, the moment where movement blended seamlessly with the music.

Scott grabbed the pencil that was sitting next to his notepad on the boards. He growled as he snapped it in half.

“What the hell?!” He roared. “You know the fucking choreography!” 

He threw a splintered piece of the pencil onto the ice. Small black flecks of broken graphite skittered across the surface of the ice. “Do the _fucking_ choreography!” He screamed at the stone faced teenager.

The boy blinked a couple of times, staring at Scott as he exploded.

“NOW!” Scott yelled and started the music. He threw the other half of the pencil down on the opposite side of the boards. It rolled across the floor to where it stopped against a pristine grey suede heel.

His eyes locked with the owner of the heels. _Gorgeous green._ “It’s a closed session.” He spoke before turning back to the skater. This time, the boy executed the footwork sequence flawlessly. Scott gave a swift nod before turning to type a few notes on his computer.

The grey heels were still there, along with their owner. He felt fire course through his veins.

“It. Is.” He pinched his thumb and forefinger together and used them to accentuate his words. “A. Closed. Session.” He threw his arms wide open in frustration. “What the _fuck_ do you want?!”

The woman crossed her arms,steeled her gaze, and met his fiery stare with one of ice.

“Good morning, Mr. Moir. My name is Tessa Virtue. I’m your new assistant.”


	2. two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first half day of working for Scott Moir doesn't exactly go as planned... For either of them.

Tessa opened the heavy door that led into Gadbois. The walls that lined the atrium were sparsely decorated- a plaque here, a team photo there. It was exactly how she had expected it might feel to walk into a rink where the lead coach and choreographer was, how had he been described? Explosive, temperamental, disrespectful. The place felt cold.

It was 9 a.m. as she walked through the door, punctual even down to the second. She’d expected that for an elite training facility, the place would be more populated right now, perhaps people walking through the atrium between the locker rooms and the rink, skaters sharing breakfast at one of the picnic tables, maybe an office staff? The place was deserted.

She heard the telltale sound of tennis shoes squeaking against concrete. A man wearing a jumpsuit appeared from around the corner. He gave her a look of surprise as he took in her appearance.

“Uh, good morning, miss. Can I help you?” His voice was rough, but kind.

“Yeah!” Tessa smiled at the gentleman, “I’m here to meet Scott Moir?”

“He’s in a closed choreography session right now. You should take a seat on the bench next to the office and wait there.” The man turned around to leave.

“Oh, I’m not here for a visit.” Tessa asserted, forcing confidence into her voice. “I’m his new assistant.”

“Oh!” His eyebrows shot nearly to his hairline. He thrust his hand out to shake hers. “In that case, my name is Jay. I’m the ice manager here at Gadbois. I guess I’m the one that makes sure there’s something to skate on.” He shook her hand firmly. “Say, you’re very different than the last ones they sent.”

“Yeah? Well hopefully that is a good thing,” Tessa laughed. “I’m planning on sticking around longer than three days.”

“Woah!” Jay laughed. “Well someone here is ambitious. What’s your name, miss ‘longer than three days’?”

“Tessa Virtue.” Tessa smiled warmly at the man. She liked him immediately.

“Well, Miss Tessa, the rink is that way.” He thrust a thumb over his shoulder towards a set of blue double doors. He chuckled to himself. “Good luck with him.”

Tessa pushed open the double doors and immediately she was met with yelling. She watched the man skate over to the boards. There was no denying that he was attractive. He wore a gray quarter zip sweatshirt that pulled tightly against his muscles. She watched as he ran his fingers through his dark hair, pausing ever so slightly to pull at the roots. He hit the boards in frustration before grabbing his coffee mug and draining whatever liquid had remained.

“Again!” He demanded of the skater before pressing play on his laptop. Intense music rang through the arena’s sound system and immediately she recognized it was from Holst’s “The Planets.” She knew her classical music.

The skater on the ice began to skate again, a look of intense concentration etched across his face. About halfway across the sheet of ice, he faltered. His face fell. Nothing could have prepared her for the grown man’s reaction. He growled as he grabbed the pencil that sat with his belongings on the boards and snapped it in two. “What the hell?!”

_Explosive._

“You know the fucking choreography!” He roared. The man hurled half of the pencil with all of his might onto the sheet of ice. “Do the fucking choreography!”

_Temperamental._

He threw the other half of the pencil over the boards onto the floor. It rolled across the concrete until it came to a stop next to her foot. She could feel the moment that his eyes locked with hers. His gaze softened ever so slightly, his light brown eyes evaluating her. The moment was so quick that she had to convince herself that it had happened in the first place. His cold gaze snapped back into place as he finished his appraisal.

“It’s a closed session.” He told her, his tone clipped.

He turned back towards the skater and hit play again. Tessa watched as Scott evaluated the skater. One of his arms was stretched across his chest. The other arm rested on top. He raised his hand to his lips, chewing ever so slightly at the skin on the side of his thumb. He nodded as the teen executed the different elements of footwork.

“Good.” She heard him mutter under his breath. Perhaps he was all bark and no bite. When the skater finished the sequence, Scott nodded his head in approval. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the boy. As he turned around, he stopped abruptly as he discovered that Tessa was still in the room. She could see the very moment that he snapped.

He brought his fingers together and punctuated each word he said. “It. Is. A. Closed. Session.” He threw his arms open in a manner that indicated that the next words out of his mouth would likely include a colourful four letter embellishment. She wasn’t wrong.

“What the fuck do you want?”

_Disrespectful._

Well he clearly was used to getting his way. Fortunately enough, she had raised a toddler. She knew what a temper tantrum looked like when she saw one. Lola had been a strong willed child. She hadn’t lacked the patience then, and she was certain she didn’t lack it now.

She straightened her back and squared her shoulders. She took a deep breath and fixed him with her most determined gaze. “Good morning, Mr. Moir. My name is Tessa Virtue. I’m your new assistant.”

His anger appeared to ebb, momentarily. “Oh.” He grunted. “I forgot they had mentioned they were sending someone today.”

He stepped off the ice and reached for the skate guards that were balanced on the boards. He used the sleeve of his jacket to wipe the slush from the blades before pulling the guards over them. He walked over to the bench a few feet away and started undoing is laces, his skilled fingers deftly undoing the knots.

“So, uh,” He gestured up and down Tessa’s body. “Why are you dressed like that?”

“Like what?” Tessa asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Like a fuckin’ business woman?” Scott’s forehead crinkled between his eyebrows as he shot her a judgmental look.

“Well, Mr. Moir, it’s important to be prepared, no matter the circumstance. I was unaware of what your job was at the rink.” She shrugged. “As a matter of fact, I’m still not quite sure of what your job is. I’m guessing choreography is a good part of it.” Tessa nodded to the ice. “For all I know, you could be the rink owner and we’ll be sitting in meetings all day.”

Scott snorted a laugh. “Well, Tessie, I’m nobody important. I’ve just got shit to do. You can lose the suit tomorrow. We’re not formal around here.”

_The gall of this man._ Tessa couldn’t help but laugh in response. “Well first, for starters, you’re welcome to call me either Tessa or Miss Virtue. Second of all, I’m going to go wait by the office. I hope that by the time you’ve finished packing up here you’ll have discovered some manners. Because this?” She gestured back and forth between the two of them with her index finger. “This is absolutely not going to work.”

She pivoted on the balls of her feet before she made her way to the doors. Her heels clacked loudly against the concrete and her hips swayed ever so slightly as she walked away. Her confidence was undeniable. He had never met someone so direct and even-tempered. She certainly was not afraid to call him on his bullshit.

He packed his belongings into his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He tucked his laptop under his arm and headed towards the door.

Tessa was standing by the doors to the office. She had picked up the informational brochure that was on the counter next to the office. She put it down as she saw him approach. She smiled pleasantly at him, but it wasn’t at all genuine. Even Scott could tell that and he hadn’t known her for more than five minutes.

“Do you like coffee?” He asked her. She looked genuinely shocked that he was asking her something about herself.

“Yes…” Tessa answered, clearly skeptical.

Scott unlocked the office and held the door open for her to enter. She stopped just inside the doorway and allowed him to pass. He turned on the lights and gestured to a small kitchenette right off the main office. “Could you make a pot?”

“Sure.” Tessa replied dryly. She held her hand out for his travel mug. He handed it over with a curt nod, his face expressionless.

“Oh! Mr. Moir?” Tessa asked over her shoulder as she walked towards the kitchenette. “Do you prefer your coffee weak or strong.”

“Strong enough to blacken the teeth and rot the stomach!” Scott called as he made his way to the other side of the office. “And you can call me Scott.”

“Scott.” She tested the sound of his name as she poked around the drawers of the kitchenette. She quickly found the coffee and started the coffee pot. As it brewed, Tessa busied herself, straightening up the small kitchen. She washed and dried the dishes in the sink and found where they belonged in the cabinet. She pulled out the disinfecting wipes and wiped down the counter. By the time she had finished, the coffee pot was sputtering and steaming. A long beep announced the end of the cycle. She rinsed Scott’s empty travel mug before filling it again.

She made her way in the direction that Scott had disappeared. Down the hallway, a ways down, a light was on, illuminating one of the smaller offices. Beside the doorway, a name plate read,

**ᐧScott Moirᐧ**  
Coach and Choreographer

“Oh.” She inhaled sharply and let out a small noise. Nothing could have prepared her for what was beyond the doorway. Paper. So. Much. Paper. His desk was piled high with stacks of paper. Mail was in piles, unopened. The trash can was overflowing beside his desk. Scott had sat down at his desk chair and was now typing furiously on his computer.

“It’s a hot mess in here.” He acknowledged. The tips of his ears turned pink as he surveyed the mess.

_Oh. He’s actually embarrassed about this._

“I’ve seen worse.” Tessa smiled as she handed him his coffee. She watched as the tension left his body, his shoulders relaxed as he blew out a breath he’d been holding. “So do you have any organizational office supplies?”

“No.” He shrugged. “Only what you see here.” He gestured to the office space around him. He opened the drawer in the desk beside him and pulled out his wallet. He thumbed through the contents before producing a credit card and holding it out to Tessa. “There’s an office supply store nearby. Buy what you need.”

“How much do you want me to spend?” Tessa asked, taking the card from his outstretched hand.

Scott shook his head. “No budget, buy what you need.”

Tessa laughed. The sound was beautiful. He knew the moment that he heard it that he wanted to hear it again.

“You know, I think those are the words that every girl wants to hear- no budget.” She laughed dryly. “Don’t worry, I won’t go crazy.”

“I don’t know that going crazy is even a possibility for you.” Scott muttered under his breath.

She vaguely heard something else along the lines of “uptight” before she couldn’t hold back any longer. Tessa shot him a look of fire. “You know, if you ever decided to hit pause on that endless stream of judgment going through your mind, you might find that there is more to someone than meets the eye.”

The next thing he knew, she was out the door, the telltale click of her heels fading as she walked further down the hallway. He opened the video footage he had taken this morning. Sean was a talented skater, there was no doubt about that- he didn’t work with skaters that weren’t talented. The kid needed some extensive work with a mental coach. He was constantly on edge and hesitant about pretty much everything he did. Scott was sitting down in the afternoon with Sean’s team to map out a plan for the off season. He’d bring it up then. He continued to watch the footage, scribbling notes on a memo pad for future reference.

Tessa returned a little over an hour and a half later, closely followed by Jay, the rink manager. Her arms were loaded with bags of supplies and Jay followed, carrying a massive box. Judging by the picture on the side, it contained a small filing cabinet.

“Thanks, Jay!” Tessa chimed as he set the box on the ground. 

“Anytime, Tess!” Jay responded with a wink as he left the room. “Let me know if you need anything else!”

“Well, looks like someone has made a friend.” Scott evaluated.

“Jay has been exceptionally helpful today.” Tessa nodded. She set her purse down in the corner of the room and began the process of rifling through the bags to find various items. A letter opener, file folders, a three hole punch, several binders. She opened the box containing the file cabinet and attempted to muscle the large metal cabinet out. After a minute, she huffed in frustration.

“Scott, would you mind giving me a hand with this?” She propped her fists on her hips as she surveyed the heavy box before her.

Scott snorted, barely shifting his eyes from the computer screen. “Why don’t you just ask your buddy, Jay?”

Tessa turned to face him, her eyebrows raised and lips pursed. Wordlessly she walked over to the corner of the room and picked up her bag. She dug inside for a moment before producing his credit card and a lengthy receipt. She set them both on top of a pile of papers on his desk and turned towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Scott asked.

Tessa turned and gaped at him. “Yeah, I’m done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading the chapter. feel free to leave your comments and thoughts! i love hearing them.
> 
> up next: how will scott respond to a challenge?

**Author's Note:**

> this story is incredibly loosely inspired by a book called the masterpiece by francine rivers (and when i say loosely, i mean it). if you're reading this and you have any idea who francine rivers is, judge all you'd like. i'm probably going to hell anyway for writing rpf in the first place.
> 
> please let me know what you think! comments and thoughts are so greatly appreciated.


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